A Moment Of Introspection
by Beregond5
Summary: Ianto does some thinking after the events on Exit Wounds. Slash. JackXIanto.


_A/n: This was written for a friend, who needed a pick-me-up after Ianto's fate in Children Of Earth. The plot is bound to be rather unoriginal, so consider yourselves warned._

_------------------  
_

Ianto Jones was a clever man; there was never any question about that. Even so, there were still many things that he couldn't possibly comprehend. And he wasn't talking about everything that happened in Torchwood Headquarters. He accepted those as part of his job, no questions asked.

There were a lot of times that Ianto wished he could say the same for the mystery that was the man by the name of Jack Harkness.

Granted, Ianto had come to learn a few choice things about his boss: former Time-agent, immortal, adventurous, passionate, with an ego almost as big as the number of people he ever flirted with. But, Ianto was also sure that he had only seen the tip of the iceberg.

It wasn't that Ianto hadn't tried to find out more about Jack Harkness. He had, and lots of times for that matter. From the moment that he had first tracked down Jack and bugged him for any kind of position at Torchwood 3, noting how neat that World War II coat was and catching Myfanwy, he wanted to know him. What were his strengths, his weaknesses, what made him laugh or what piqued his interest – anything in order to keep Jack Harkness happy. He had wanted to keep Jack happy; not only because Ianto worked for that man, but because it also gave him an advantage. It made him a pleasant employee, who was in Torchwood to do his job and nothing more.

Of course, Ianto had wanted to believe that he had kept his own secrets well. But then Lisa escaped, the mechanical parts finally taking over the little bit of humanity that was in her, and all hell broke loose. He had wanted to believe he could save her, even at the very last moment. Perhaps it was stubbornness that had blinded him from the truth, or loyalty… maybe even a thread of love, however weak it had become. He wasn't sure. He had persisted anyway and his coworkers had almost paid for it with their lives.

As for Ianto himself… he had gotten a different punishment, and he didn't mean the two-week suspension.

Ianto touched his mouth with light fingers and closed his eyes, losing himself in the memory. Lisa, or that thing that had been Lisa once, had knocked him out cold and then, next thing he knew, his lips were connected to Jack's in a definite kiss. The professional, more reasonable part of Ianto had tried not to think much of the matter. Jack had probably wanted to save an employee in spite of what said employee had done. But another part of Ianto had hoped that that kiss could have probably meant something more.

Still, as time passed, Jack had simply got back to his good old ways as if nothing had happened between them. They had even got back to their usual meaningless, albeit fun, banter of theirs, except this time it actually had the power to infuriate Ianto to no end.

Looking back, Ianto supposed he should have confronted Jack about that kiss a long time ago, preferably when it would have been just the two of them at Headquarters. But, on the other hand, what could he have said? 'Hey, Jack, you killed my girlfriend but that's okay; I have a crush on you anyway'? It wasn't only ridiculous, it also sounded pathetic.

So, Ianto had kept quiet, even though that turned out not to have been his best idea either. In the next few weeks, Ianto had got himself so worked up over that kiss and how damn _good _it had felt that he had even begun to resent Jack for doing this to him. That cocky bastard of a former Time-agent probably even knew the kind of effect that kiss had on Ianto, yet decided to act nonchalant about it so as to mock him.

But Ianto had got his revenge in the end. He had showed the high and mighty Jack that he wasn't as irresistible as he liked to think. Although the Welshman had to admit to himself that declaring _Lisa_ had been the last person he had shared a kiss with was a blow below the belt, the glare Jack had given him had been priceless.

After that, Ianto had supposed he could move on. He had still felt like his stomach did back flips every time he brought Jack his coffee and Jack greeted him with that practically breath-taking smile of his, by all means. Even so, Ianto had already decided he could live with that. To have such a crush on someone had been a long-missed feeling and he had wanted to savour it as much as possible. The hours he had had to spend with Jack had been one of the best things in his every day existence, and he hadn't wanted to change them for the world.

That is, until Jack had disappeared. From that time onward, Ianto had tried to hold himself together; for, if he had let go, he would have broken for certain. So, he had stayed strong for the sake of the team, and he had resisted the temptation to retcon himself. Thus, he made his life an empty existence, filled with regret for the words that were never said because Ianto had believed there was enough time.

However, someone must have been looking favourably on Ianto and they had taken a pity on him. Several months later, Jack walked back inside Headquarters with that same cocky smile of his and that unmatched teasing twinkle in his eyes and _alive._ Ianto had rushed up to him with so many things in his mind, things that he had desperately wanted to voice… but he came into a blank the moment that Jack locked his gaze on him.

"I… uh…" he had stammered, his hands reaching for the other man uncertainly. Yet Jack had said everything in his own, straightforward way: he had embraced Ianto tightly and pulled him into a deep kiss that made the younger man see stars.

It was in that moment, when his heart beat rapidly against his chest and his arms wrapped around Jack and he mentally wished to stay like that forever, colleagues watching be damned, that Ianto knew. He was in love with Jack Harkness, and his love ran deeper than anything he had felt before in his life. And to think that there was a time that he had believed he only liked women. The irony was biting, to say the least.

From then on, things had never been the same between him and Jack again. Even Jack must have realized it too, for he was acting different as well. It hadn't been visible to someone that didn't know the former Time-agent, but Ianto had been able to see it as clear as day. Jack had started flirting him more openly, cutting down on the double-entedre innuendos that were part of their playful banter. He had even asked Ianto out on a date, for God's sake. A date that would have certainly won Ianto over if that hadn't happened already.

It hadn't been long after that when, on a cold uneventful night and after several shots of bourbon, he and Jack had ended up at Headquarters, kissing hungrily and discarding one piece of clothing after another. Knowing what he was doing, Jack had quickly taken charge of the situation and turned it into something amazing and unforgettable for the younger man.

In spite of that, Ianto had still been uncertain as to what Jack had wanted from him. Though flattered, nothing had proved to Ianto that Jack was looking at him any differently from any other person who had at one time or other shared a bed with him. The mere idea that Ianto could have been nothing more than a number to Jack was insulting, to say the least; especially considering Ianto's feelings for Jack. It hadn't helped that Jack seemed to come to him only whenever he felt frustrated and in a desire to let off some steam either.

That is, until Jack had said _it. _Sure, it had been indirect, but the look the Time-agent had given Ianto when he had said _those_ words had spoken volumes. With his heart flaring strongly in his chest, consumed by love for the man that sat in front of him, Ianto had grabbed Jack and sealed their lips together, breathing into him his very being. And what had followed afterwards had marked Ianto very differently from their first time, for it had been then that the young man realized that what had been just sex had changed into lovemaking. Every brush of their lips, every caress, every hushed word was meant to bring the two of them closer than ever; so close that Ianto couldn't imagine his life without having Jack at his side anymore. He wanted to be with him through everything, to _share _everything. Good and bad.

Especially the bad.

The day that they had lost Owen and Toshiko had been the hardest the bear. The disbelief that reigned in the remaining party's hearts was followed by sadness and guilt, until it was eventually replaced by acceptance and grief.

Gwen had cried the most of the three, naturally. Ianto had supposed that someone had to shed tears for those gone, since neither he nor Jack had shed any. Not because they didn't care or any such silly notion. They had simply become too numb inside, to the point that nothing else mattered in that hour of mourning.

Nothing, that is, except for each other. Ianto could still recall the feel of a hand gently clasping his after Gwen had left, as well as Jack looking at him with an unprecedented pleading expression as he said two words only:

"Don't go."

Ianto didn't, which brought them in Jack's room, to the now. They hadn't made love; neither of them had been up to it. They nevertheless lay together, locked in each other's arms in a tight grip, both desperately clinging to the one thing that reminded them they were alive – as if they were afraid that the cruel hand of fate would snatch either of them away all over again.

Ianto looked at Jack's face as the Time-agent was lost in a dreamless slumber, and he couldn't help but nuzzle him affectionately. At that moment, he remembered Toshiko's words, the ones that she had directed to Owen, and a spark of dismay ignited in him. Life had been more than unfair to those two. Death had ended something that never got the chance to start in the first place.

Ianto, however, _had _that chance, and he didn't intend to let go of it for as long as it was in his hands. After all, Ianto Jones wasn't only a clever man, but a realist as well. He knew that one day he was going to die too. It could be years later, when his hair turned white and wrinkles of old age were etched deeply on his face, or it could be the very next day, killed in an accident or in the line of duty; but it would happen nonetheless. He just hoped that the last thing he saw when that happened would be Jack's face, so he could tell him the same words that he whispered at him now, while resting his forehead against Jack's.

"I love you."

**The End****.**


End file.
